Whiskey Kisses
by lilviorX
Summary: Clay has a few too many whiskeys. Jack gets his wish. There'll be more than a hangover to deal with in the morning. ClayJack SLASH !COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Whiskey Kisses**

**Author: Lilvior**

**Summary: Clay has a few too many whiskeys. Jack gets his wish. There'll be more than a hangover to deal with in the morning.**

**Warnings: SLASH. Clay/Jack. Minor (in this fic Jack is 15 and Clay is 21). Alcohol consumption.**

**Rating: R**

**Disclaimer: Just like any other fanfic writing student, I own nothing of any value, especially not the characters depicted in this story. I'm not making any money from this either – I need to go out and get a real job.**

**Feedback: Please leave feedback, if I don't get any opinions on the direction of a story then it's really hard to continue it. If you must flame, please say at least one nice thing for every bad thing – it's only fair. :-)**

**A/N: With regards to the whole 'age of consent' thing, I have attempted to research it, according to one website I looked at, gay sex is actually ILLEGAL in Texas, and in China (where I think the show is set) the age of consent is 21. I had no idea it was that bad! I'm English; we have one overall age of consent which is sixteen. And we can drink at eighteen…**

**Apologies if anyone disagrees with the ages I've set for the characters, but don't flame me for it, it's integral to the plot.**

Clay slammed the door and stormed out. He'd had enough of being told what to do; he didn't mind when Master Fung appointed the chores, but being told what to do by a twelve year-old was more than his dignity could bear. For the hundredth time, he found himself wondering if the temple was really the right place for him.

He was on his way to the only bar in the vicinity. It was small and dark and dismal, but the bartender didn't look too hard at his customers, no-one judged him there, and best of all; the whiskey was cheap.

Clay had turned twenty-one just three weeks ago, but in those three weeks he'd already spent several nights in this bar. He drank sensibly, never drinking enough to make himself ill, never getting so drunk that he didn't remember anything the next day.

Tonight was going to be different, _very_ different.

Raimundo had bunked off for the whole day, probably gone into town or off to play soccer somewhere. Kimiko was suffering from 'women's problems', and hence unable to help out with anything. Clay had good-naturedly offered to pitch in and help out around the temple, and had ended up spending the whole day being bossed around by Omi. The trouble with Omi was his incredible innocence; it was impossible to shout at the little fella, impossible to tell him where he could stick Dojo's litter-box. So instead, as always, Clay buried his emotions and decided to get rid of them with copious amounts of whiskey.

He knew he'd regret it the next day when they were supposed to be running a new – and apparently quite vicious – assault course.

He didn't even know why they were training so hard any more; Wuya had vanished and Jack hadn't even bothered trying at the last few showdowns. The young red-head had seemed somewhat distracted of late; Clay accredited it to Jack starting to question his position on the Heylin side.

The bar was empty but for the bartender, who nodded in greeting as Clay entered, and one bearded man nursing a pint of lager.

"Evenin', Joe." Clay drawled, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "Line 'em up."

Joe smiled and poured out a treble Jack Daniels over ice, taking the money from Clay and tucking it straight into his pants pocket. Clay wondered if the till on the edge of the bar ever actually saw use.

He swirled the glass, loving the gentle clinking noise of the ice-cubes hitting each other and the sides of the glass.

Three hours later, Clay stumbled out of the bar. He didn't know how many he'd had; only that he'd spent a _lot_ of money. It was dark now, and the street lamps had come on, they seemed tall and imposing, lauding their sickly orange glow over the damp grey pavement. Clay leaned against a wall for a moment to get his bearings.

"Clay?" The voice sounded startled, and more than a little guilty.

Clay turned around slowly, careful to stay upright.

"Spicer?" The clarity of his own voice surprised him. "What're you doing up at this time, isn't it past your curfew?" He grinned. He'd missed ribbing Spicer during the showdowns.

"Parents are away." Jack replied, he frowned at the Texan and sniffed, "Hey, have you been drinking?" He looked shocked.

Clay laughed.

"You think just 'cos I'm a Xiaolin dragon, I won't go out and get hammered?" He couldn't decide what to make of the way Jack was looking at him, the expression almost looked like… disappointment?

"No, I just thought you were better than that."

Jack Spicer had been wandering the streets that night in a vain attempt to find Wuya. The witch had flown off a few weeks ago after an argument; at first Jack had been delighted. But as time dragged on, he grew lonelier. His parents were supposed to be back in the country this week, but they'd phoned earlier that day to tell him that they were staying a bit later.

Now, when he'd turned down this road, he'd fully intended crossing it to avoid that awful bar, there'd been an incident a few months ago where a couple of guys had staggered out of the venue and suggestively asked Jack if he wanted to go back to their place for a 'private party'. Jack shivered just thinking about it, he'd told the two guys where to go, and then run home as fast as his evil little leggies could carry him.

But when he'd glanced at the doorway this time, he'd recognised the cowboy hat. It shocked him that Clay would drink in such a dive, he'd always thought of Clay as the nicest of the Xiaolin dragons; Rai was arrogant and had stolen his place as evil ruler of the world in the past, Kimiko was just a bitch, and Omi inspired nothing but jealousy in Jack.

Clay on the other hand, was always kind and gentle. Well, obviously not when they were fighting, but when there were no shen-gong-wu involved Clay was sweet and understanding of Jack. Also he was big and handsome, his muscles were outstanding and his eyes were the brightest of blue. His hair was so thick and yet so silky; Jack wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through that hair.

And now he was just stood in front of the cowboy, feeling rather small.

"I was looking for Wuya." He explained after a few moments of silence.

"What could you possibly want with that old hag?" Clay slurred.

Clay was feeling quite drunk now, and he really wanted to lie down in bed, but he hadn't quite forgiven the other monks enough to go back to the temple yet.

"I suppose I was lonely without her." Jack admitted, looking embarrassed about it.

"Well, you certainly shouldn't be wandering around this part of town at this time of night." Clay pointed out. "I don't even want to think what might happen to a pretty boy like you in this neighbourhood. C'mon, I'll walk you home." He slung his arm around Jack's shoulders and started walking with him.

"Er, thanks, I guess." Jack was still trying to comprehend the fact that Clay had called him 'pretty'. "But I live _that_ way." He pointed behind them.

Jack had no idea how they'd made it all the way back to his house. Clay had seemed almost asleep at some points on their journey. Not to mention the fact that Jack had had to walk whilst being squashed up against Clay's side.

Jack dug his keys out of his pocket and started working on what he could say to convince Clay to come in.

What Jack didn't know, was that Clay was waiting to be invited inside.

Jack pulled a tangled mass of keys from his jeans, but before picking out the one he wanted, he looked back up at Clay.

"Clay…" He didn't know what he was going to say, but opened his mouth anyway.

And kissed him.

Clay was shocked; who would have thought that Jack felt this way? Personally, Clay had never let a person's gender influence his feelings for them, so he wasn't too bothered by the fact that Jack was a boy. But he hadn't considered Jack that way ever before. Still, he was pleasantly drunk, and the idea of a nice warm bed and a nice warm body to share it with was certainly tempting.

He put his hands around Jack's waist and pulled him closer.

Jack was relieved that Clay was responding, and put his own hands up on Clay's shoulders. From this night onwards, the taste of whiskey would always remind him of this kiss.

Clay broke the kiss, took the keys from Jack's hand and let them into the house. His eyes widened as they took in the entrance hall of the enormous house; it was stunning, a marble staircase curled from the centre of the entrance hall upwards and split to lead to two separate balconies.

"I live this way." Jack took hold of Clay's hand and led him to a door under one of the staircases. Clay thought that Jack had cute little hands; he was wearing chipped black nail-varnish and all his nails were chewed down to the skin. They went through the door and down a set of decidedly less elegant stairs into a huge cellar.

"Hang on, I'll just get the lights." Jack let go of Clay's hand and sprinted across to a computer, he pressed a few buttons and all the lights came on, one by one.

Clay had started wandering around, exploring the room; it was full of electrical junk, partially assembled robots, tool-kits, computers and piles upon piles of papers with prototype sketches on them. It suddenly occurred to him that Jack really was pretty darned smart.

"Er, do you want, like, a drink, or something?" Jack stammered nervously. Clay grinned to himself and walked over to the bed, sitting down on it and kicking his boots off. He was flattered by the fact that Jack so clearly had the hots for him, and to be honest, it turned him on a little, too.

Jack joined Clay, sitting on the bed; he twiddled his thumbs, not knowing what to say.

Should he start talking? Discuss the weather? He had no idea; he'd never been in this situation before.

"You okay, partner?" Clay asked, feigning concern. He knew exactly what was wrong with Jack, but that pretty little expression of apprehension on his face was so adorable.

"Yeah, I just…" But before Jack could think of a way to finish his sentence Clay was pulling him onto his lap. Jack sat there on Clay's lap, facing him and with his legs either side of Clay's. He'd never been this close to the cowboy, never seen those sparkling eyes up quite so close. Then Clay started kissing his neck and Jack couldn't help moaning and tipping his head back.

Jack could hardly believe what was happening. He couldn't count the number of nights he'd fallen asleep to this very fantasy. He could feel teeth digging into his neck, but it didn't hurt, it felt… he couldn't possibly describe the sensation. He knew there would be a deep purple bruise on his neck in the morning. Clay's hands were unzipping the heavy leather coat and slipping it from Jack's shoulders, at about the same time that Jack registered the hot stirring in his groin. He heard his coat hit the floor with a thump, and knew that the bulge in his pants would now be visible to Clay. Clay didn't seem to be too bothered as he indicated for Jack to raise his arms above his head while his tight red t-shirt was stripped off. Once topless, Jack folded his arms across his chest in embarrassment, he felt rather inadequate when it came to his lack of chest definition. He couldn't help staring at the floor and avoiding Clay's eyes.

"Don't be shy, little partner." Clay whispered directly against Jack's ear, flicking his tongue out at the earlobe, "Let me look at you."

Jack slowly let his arms drop to his sides, he was still nervous, but didn't want Clay to know.

His torso was narrow and pale, his ribs visible, and his nipples were small pink circles. He was hairless, and his abdomen was soft and undefined. He looked young and vulnerable sat half naked on Clay's lap.

Clay growled in arousal, whipping his hat from his own head, and placing it on Jack's head. Whilst Jack was preoccupied with rearranging his hair under the cowboy hat, Clay reached down between them with one hand and deftly unzipped the younger boy's pants. Jack tensed momentarily as his jeans were breached, he looked at Clay's face and registered the lust therein.

"Oh god!" He moaned, rolling his eyes back as Clay massaged his swollen erection.

Clay had held on as long as possible, he could no longer be patient with the young virgin. Using his immense strength, he lifted the boy from his lap and threw him onto the bed, watching his hat fall from his head and rolling onto the floor. He loved the panicked squeal that escaped Jack's pretty lips. Before Jack could even try to sit up, Clay pulled his jeans and underpants off in one swift movement.

Clay looked down at the pale, scrawny, naked body beneath him. He'd never felt so powerful. He looked into Jack's beautiful red eyes and registered the conflicting emotions therein; the intense need and arousal, and the trepidation with hints of genuine fear. Slowly he peeled his own t-shirt off, revealing a tattoo of a dragon wrapped around a mountain above his left pectoral.

"Uh, C-clay?" Jack stuttered.

"What's up, darlin'?" Clay slurred, he was knelt over Jack's hips, slowly tracing his index finger up and down the length of Jack's cock.

Jack closed his eyes and shuddered in delight.

"Are we gonna… have sex?" he panted, starting to writhe.

Clay grinned,

"Spicer, I'm gonna fuck your brains out."

Clay's gentle touch was driving him insane. Jack had never felt anything like this; touching himself was certainly never this good. Clay's promise filled him with excitement and fear. He desperately wanted Clay to hold him, to kiss him and touch him, to make him come hard. But at the same time, he was scared, because he had felt the size of Clay's erection – the rumours about Texans were apparently true. He also feared what Clay might do when he sobered up; he was quite clearly still drunk at the moment. Would Clay tell the other Xiaolin dragons about this? What if Wuya chose now to re-materialise in his bedroom?

He was just about to voice his concerns, when Clay climbed off of him, and removed his jeans. It appeared that Clay did not wear underpants.

"Uh-oh." Jack muttered, seeing that he had somehow managed to underestimate the size of Clay's manhood. "That won't fit!" The boy squealed.

Clay chuckled, climbing back over Jack and kissing him.

"Don't worry, it'll fit."

They kissed for a few moments, until Clay felt Jack start to relax.

"This is gonna hurt, isn't it?" Jack asked, his heart pounding, but he was desperate for it.

"Not as much as you think." Clay had swiped a tub of petroleum jelly from the bedside table, he waved it in Jack's face and grinned.

"Uh, I get really chapped lips, that's the only reason it's next to th-" Jack's rambling was halted by a particularly deep kiss.

Clay managed to distract Jack long enough to slip a hand behind him, but there was no way to distract him from the initial penetration.

Jack squealed in surprise. He was quite surprised that this wasn't painful, Clay had thick fingers, and the one inside Jack was no exception. He felt a little stretched as a second finger slid in, but the discomfort was nothing compared to the sudden pleasure he felt as Clay found his prostate.

"Mmm…" Jack arched his back and smiled serenely. He whined in disappointment when Clay removed his hand, then his breath caught in his throat as he felt the warm, moist tip of Clay's erection start to ease its way in.

"Ssh, it's okay, you just gotta relax." Clay pushed slowly but at a steady pace.

Jack bit down hard on his lip and squeezed his eyes closed, until Clay was fully sheathed, then the pain seemed to miraculously vanish, and was replaced by an overwhelming sense of completion.

Jack was incredibly tight. Clay had to fight his own instincts to just thrust straight in and fuck the younger boy right through the bed. He lay forward, resting most of his weight on his hands so as not to crush Jack. He looked down at the pretty face a few centimetres beneath his own. How come he'd never noticed how pretty Jack was before? Probably because he'd never been this drunk before, he laughed to himself a little as he started a gentle momentum. He could feel Jack's cock between them, and Jack's girly little hands gripping his shoulders.

Clay sped up the rocking, almost unable to control himself. He felt fingernails digging deeper into the flesh of his shoulders, and watched as Jack squeezed his eyes shut and cried out in a cracked pitch as he came to his climax.

Clay groaned as he felt Jack's muscles clench around his erection, drawing out a long, hard orgasm that shuddered through every cell of his body.

Jack lay still for about three minutes, he'd noticed Clay getting heavier, and it was starting to get difficult to breathe.

"Clay?" He managed to croak. When he received no reply, he realised that the cowboy had fallen asleep. Jack rolled him over and felt a little empty as Clay began to snore.

How could he just fall asleep after that? Jack hadn't exactly been expecting a marriage proposal, but he'd hoped they could talk.

He gathered up the blankets and lay down next to him, resting his head on his lover's chest.

"We can talk in the morning." Jack whispered, yawning. "I love you, Clay."

When Clay woke up the first thing he noticed was the soft mattress beneath him. So he wasn't at the temple.

His brain seemed to be beating the inside of his skull, his mouth tasted of whiskey and was dry as a bone. He tried to raise a hand to his eyes, but it was weighted down with something. '_Probably the owner of this bed'_, he thought to himself, only vaguely caring who he'd spent the night with, feeling much more desperate to get back to familiar territory.

He rolled towards the warm body and opened his eyes.

Short red hair, pale skin – not his normal type. Slowly he was able to focus his eyes. Quite a slim girl, eyeliner smeared down her face… Wait a minute…

Clay's heart skipped a beat as he realised who it was. He slowly pulled his arm out from under the body and rolled out of bed.

His head was pounding, his stomach was rolling, and now he _really_ thought he was going to be sick. He searched the floor for his clothes, pulled them on as silently as possible, then crept out of the room and started running back to the temple.

He'd had sex with Jack Spicer.

**A/N: I wasn't sure if I should have left it there, or at the end of the previous paragraph…**

**Go on then, what do you think?**

**I've nearly finished the next/final chapter, but if anyone has any useful input I may be able to use it.**

**Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Whiskey Kisses**

**Author: Lilvior**

**Summary: Clay has a few too many whiskeys. Jack gets his wish. There'll be more than a hangover to deal with in the morning.**

**Warnings: SLASH. Clay/Jack. Minor (in this fic Jack is 15 and Clay is 21). Alcohol consumption.**

**Rating: R**

**Disclaimer: Just like any other fanfic writing student, I own nothing of any value, especially not the characters depicted in this story. I'm not making any money from this either – I need to go out and get a real job.**

**Feedback: Please leave feedback, if I don't get any opinions on the direction of a story then it's really hard to continue it. If you must flame, please say at least one nice thing for every bad thing – it's only fair. :-)**

**A/N****: With regards to the whole 'age of consent' thing, I have attempted to research it, according to one website I looked at, gay sex is actually ILLEGAL in Texas, and in China (where I think the show is set) the age of consent is 21. I had no idea it was that bad! I'm English; we have one overall age of consent which is sixteen. And we can drink at eighteen…**

**Apologies if anyone disagrees with the ages I've set for the characters, but don't flame me for it, it's integral to the plot.**

When Clay woke up the first thing he noticed was the soft mattress beneath him. So he wasn't at the temple.

His brain seemed to be beating the inside of his skull, his mouth tasted of whiskey and was dry as a bone. He tried to raise a hand to his eyes, but it was weighted down with something. '_Probably the owner of this bed'_, he thought to himself, only vaguely caring who he'd spent the night with, feeling much more desperate to get back to familiar territory.

He rolled towards the warm body and opened his eyes.

Short red hair, pale skin – not his normal type. Slowly he was able to focus his eyes. Quite a slim girl, eyeliner smeared down her face… Wait a minute…

Clay's heart skipped a beat as he realised who it was. He slowly pulled his arm out from under the body and rolled out of bed.

His head was pounding, his stomach was rolling, and now he _really_ thought he was going to be sick. He searched the floor for his clothes, pulled them on as silently as possible, then crept out of the room and started running back to the temple.

He'd had sex with Jack Spicer.

p 

Jack woke up feeling unusually serene. There was a dull ache in his lower back, but it wasn't really all that uncomfortable, it was when he sat up that a sharper pain shot upwards briefly from beneath him.

So he hadn't dreamt it.

He tried to stop the smile that wanted to spread from one ear to the other, but it was useless. With a huge dopey grin, he turned to look at the blond Adonis who had taken him to such a wonderful place the previous evening.

The bed was empty. Maybe Clay had gotten up to make breakfast. It was a plausible idea, but something in Jack's mind told him this situation wasn't going to have a fairy-tale ending. Glancing across the room, Jack noticed that Clay's clothes were gone.

The next emotion that started stirring within him was anger. Wasn't Clay supposed to be one of the good guys? The good guys don't just sneak out the morning after. Was there even a note?

Jack's heart perked up for a moment; maybe Clay had early morning training and just didn't want to wake Jack up! Jumping from the bed, he searched every surface in the room for a scrap of paper with a hastily written message of love, but there was none to be found.

Still naked, Jack sat back down on the bed and rubbed angrily at his eyes, trying to stop the tears before they started. What had he really expected? Did he _honestly_ believe that Clay would be the knight in shining armour he'd always dreamed of?

No, he'd never been quite that delusional, but he had hoped for something more than just a one-night-stand.

Feeling dejected, and a little sore, Jack dug some clean underpants out of the drawer under his bed and pulled them on.

That was when he saw Clay's hat. He dived for it with the vigour with which he'd chase down a shen gong wu. As he held it, he blissfully remembered when Clay had put it on him. Could that really have been six hours ago? Carefully, he set the hat on the bed and continued getting dressed.

p 

Clay had managed to get back into the temple without making a sound, he snuck into the bathroom and splashed cold water over his face. It was only just gone six o'clock, so the others weren't up for training yet, although they would be in less than an hour, Clay had no idea how he was going to survive the morning, there wasn't really such a thing as a 'sick day' at the temple, especially when he stank of whiskey.

He felt dirty. Sure, he'd gone out and had one-night-stands with some girls he used to know last time he stopped home in Texas, but this was _very_ different. Not only was Jack a boy, but he was… Jack! He was the 'evil boy genius', for god's sake! And Clay had managed to get drunk and fuck the little varmint.

Resting his head against the mirror above the sink, he felt sick to his stomach. Muscles suddenly convulsed deep within him and he vomited into the sink repeatedly. He felt his throat being stripped raw by the acid and alcohol from his stomach.

"I'm never drinking again." He muttered, bile dripping from his lips into the sink. He spat the nasty taste away, vaguely remembering snippets from the night before.

He remembered being at the bar, then somehow he'd been walking Jack Spicer to his house. He recalled Jack kissing him, and was dismayed to realise he hadn't even tried to push the boy away.

And then he'd woken up naked in bed with him.

Clay groaned and washed his face again.

"You look a little worse for wear." Raimundo commented, his grin apparent in his tone.

"You would be, too." Clay muttered in response, he briefly considered warning Raimundo of the perils of alcohol, and then decided - rather deviously - to allow Raimundo to discover that for himself in four and a half years time, when he could legally drink.

"So where did you end up last night?" Rai was still grinning, he looked like he was enjoying Clay's pain, but in truth he was jealous. Rai couldn't wait to go out, get drunk and sleep with some random girl, even if it did mean feeling as bad as Clay looked.

"I don't remember." Clay answered, well, it was half true.

A couple of hours later, Clay was half-heartedly attempting the warm up exercises with his team mates, when Master Fung stopped them. The expression on the old man's face was one of anger; Clay braced himself for a bollocking.

"There is little point continuing with this training session." Fung announced, then he turned on his heel and disappeared into the temple, leaving the monks in mid-exercise.

"Clay, you look unwell, maybe you should go back to your bed." Omi helpfully suggested.

"Clay hasn't been to _his_ bed yet." Rai teased, grinning and wanting to hear the details of Clay's conquest.

"You men are so disgusting." Kimiko scorned, she was going through something of a feminist phase at the moment and was thoroughly unappreciative of Clay's bragging the night after he'd scored. She grabbed Omi's hand and dragged the younger boy away from what she suspected was about to become a PG-13 conversation.

"Great! Kimi's gone, you can tell me now!" Rai was jumping up and down excitedly. "Was she hot? Do I know her?"

Clay groaned, he really didn't want to do this now.

"I guess… kinda cute, not my type though." He mumbled, sitting cross-legged on the grass and trying to remember how he'd ended up in such a compromising situation last night. "Rai? Have you ever done something really stupid and not known what to do about it?"

"What are you talking about?" Raimundo looked confused.

"Imagine you didn't really remember the night before, and you wake up with a _really_ ugly chick." Well, it was sort of a comparison.

"You said she was cute." Rai reminded him, a note of suspicion in his voice. "But, I guess I'd chalk it up to experience."

Clay grimaced, he really wasn't looking forward to seeing Jack at the next showdown.

"No, I mean _really_ ugly, like hideously deformed." He tried.

"Eew, you didn't?" Rai frowned and wrinkled up his nose. "What are you trying to say?"

"I woke up with a guy!" Clay blurted, waiting solemnly for a response from his friend.

Silence reigned for a few moments; then Raimundo burst out laughing.

"Oh my god!" He shrieked, rolling on the grass in hysterics.

Clay allowed his so-called friend to laugh for a while, hopefully get it out of his system. He would have to remember to be this sympathetic with Raimundo when he turns up hung-over and unwell in the future.

It was actually turning out to be a relatively nice day, the sun was high and the clouds were sparse, there was a very light but very refreshing breeze and the air smelt of new soil from the garden. Clay tried to concentrate on a buttercup growing beside him, but he was starting to think that he could remember enjoying himself the previous night.

"Anyone we know?" Raimundo continued teasing.

Clay wasn't going to answer that.

p 

Jack deftly manoeuvred his Jack-bot over the gates of the temple compound and over to the control panel for the security network. With a couple of well rehearsed combinations entered on his remote computer, the gates clicked open and the flashing red lights built into the walls went out.

Jack strolled through the gates over to the temple steps, choosing that spot to sit and wait at.

He still wasn't sure why he was here; was he going to be angry with Clay for leaving him? Or was he going to beg the cowboy to take him seriously? Most importantly, he had to know how Clay felt.

He wore the hat Clay had left, maybe the hat itself had been intended to be interpreted as a message? Jack shifted his position slightly, still not particularly comfortable sitting on the stone steps, half wishing he'd brought his father's piles cushion with him.

p 

Raimundo hadn't shut his god-damned mouth in a very long ten minutes. Clay felt as though he was going to have to beat the annoying Brazilian senseless.

"Aw, and did you give him your hat as a keepsake?" Rai said, feigning girlish adoration, and bringing the point to Clay's attention.

"Shit!" Clay exclaimed, patting his head, "My hat!" he was about to open his mouth to continue talking when they turned a corner, but instead he snapped his lips together, grabbed Raimundo by the arm and dragged him back in the direction they'd just come.

"Wha-?" Rai nearly tripped over his feet.

"Ah, I just remembered we want to be goin' this way." Clay felt the heat in his face and silently wished that Rai would just go along with him.

Jack was sat on the temple steps, innocently sporting Clay's hat.

"Wait a second." Rai shrugged off Clay's grip and bolted to the corner, sneaking a look around it.

Clay waited for laughter to erupt, but Rai was surprisingly quiet.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Rai eventually asked, he was frowning.

"I don't know what you mean." Clay swallowed hard, wondering why Raimundo was looking at him that way.

"I mean; Jack Spicer is sat over there, wearing you hat, but you didn't sleep with _him_." Rai seemed pretty sure of this fact.

Rather than taking the sensible option and replying 'no, of course not', Clay had to wonder why Rai was so certain that something that had definitely happened, couldn't have happened.

"What makes you think it wasn't Spicer?" Clay asked, a smile curving his lips.

"Because Jack Spicer is only fifteen, even you wouldn't be dumb enough to fuck a fifteen year-old, even if you can't tell a boy from a girl!" Rai started to laugh, but stopped rather abruptly when he saw that all the colour had drained from Clay's face. The Texan looked as though he was about to throw up again.

"Oh god."

p 

Jack thought he heard Clay's voice from around the side of a small building, he was about to get up to investigate, when a voice made him spin round.

"Hey!" Kimiko cried, "What the hell are you doing here?" her hands flamed up and took a ready stance.

"Don't hurt me!" Jack squealed, "I just wanna talk to Clay!" he pulled the brim of the hat down as if to protect his face.

"Is that Clay's hat?" Kimiko asked, her first thought had been that the little creep had just stolen it, but then she remembered Clay hadn't been wearing it earlier, in fact, she hadn't seen him wearing it since he'd gone out drinking the previous night.

And that was when the shit hit the fan.

Clay stormed around the corner, marching right up to the young red-head, and then he grabbed the boy by the collar and hoisted him up against the wall.

"What kinda game you playing here, boy?" He demanded, he whipped the hat from the boy's head and thrust it at his chest. "Have this dry-cleaned and returned to me by the end of the week." His eyes flashed with rage.

"Can't we go somewhere and talk?" Jack pleaded, slightly embarrassed that Raimundo and Kimiko were witnessing this scene.

"I've got nothin' to say to you, now get out." Clay's voice had become an angry growl. He loosened his grip and let Jack fall to the floor.

"Clay, please!" Jack could feel tears welling at the corners of his eyes; he _really_ didn't want to cry in front of the other Xiaolin monks.

"You heard what he said." Kimiko spat. "Get out." She just couldn't help getting involved if it meant she got to have a bitch at someone.

"Clay." This time the voice came from Raimundo. "You need to sort this out."

Clay closed his eyes and sighed through gritted teeth.

"Fine." He conceded.

Raimundo had dragged Kimiko away whilst Clay and Jack went to the field.

p 

Jack stood warily on the edge of the grass. Clay sat at the base of a large tree, holding his head in his hands. Neither spoke for a long time.

"You should have told me how old you are." Clay eventually whispered.

"Would it have made a difference?" Jack sulked, "It didn't bother you that I'm a guy. It didn't bother you that I'm evil."

"I'd get hanged for this at home." Clay seemed to be in a miserable state of shock. "My Pa would disown me if he knew."

"I'm gonna be sixteen in September; I dunno if that makes a difference…" Jack wanted to kneel down next to Clay and comfort him, despite his harsh words earlier. Clay was still beautiful, strong and everything Jack wanted. "I really like you."

Clay groaned into his hands.

He still couldn't remember the exact details of the previous night, but he could now recall thrusting in and out of the boy, and noting how pretty he was. Would it have made a difference if he'd known how old Jack was? He didn't know. He should have realised what it had meant though; taking the kid's virginity, should have predicted that Jack wouldn't have been thinking of it as just a one-night-stand.

"Don't say that." Clay mumbled, still not daring to uncover his face.

"Say what? That I _like_ you?" Jack voice had moved up a pitch or two. "Last night I told you that I love you, but you'd already fallen asleep!" The voice cracked slightly at the end.

Clay felt even more sick; no wonder he couldn't remember what had happened after the sex.

He heard a sniffle. Then a whimper.

"I'm sorry." Clay whispered. "I didn't mean to mess with your emotions." He remembered the fear in Jack's eyes, the trepidation and the pain, but also the innocent lust, and the way pleasure sent a red flush up his face.

When he didn't get a response, Clay uncovered his face and turned around; Jack was sat on the grass, knees drawn up to his chin, head tucked in and his back shaking as he sobbed.

He'd expected puppy-dog-eyes, but not crying. Sure, Jack was a cry-baby, but Clay had never seen him cry like this.

Against his better judgement, Clay moved over to where Jack was and sat down next him, curling an arm around his shoulder. He felt strangely comfortable, enjoying Jack's scent which was a mixture of the gel he spiked his hair up with, aftershave – although Clay was quite sure the boy wasn't shaving yet – and the soft talc-y scent of his skin.

"Sorry I shouted at you." He said, honestly meaning it.

Jack looked up and _there_ were the puppy-dog eyes. Huge sparkling orbs the colour of blood, wet with tears and wide with innocence. His lips were the same blood-red, dark and moist, in stark contrast to the paleness of his skin, they hung slightly open, inviting.

Clay battled his urge to kiss the damn boy, and lurched backwards when Jack tried to close the gap himself.

"Do you even know what you're doing!" Clay exclaimed.

"I want to kiss you." Jack whined. "I love you!"

"What we did was _illegal_! Do you understand that?" Clay was shouting at himself as much as Jack; now he understood why they'd slept together.

"It would have been illegal if I was twenty, and I _know_ you didn't think I was that old." Jack shouted back, pouting. "I thought you 'Xiaolin losers' were into all that new age crap; free love etc." He was sulking again. But he had a point; Clay had never thought Jack was twenty-one, so it would have been illegal anyway.

"You're still a child." He'd said it before he could stop himself. It seemed that the fifteen/sixteen transition was when one became an adult.

"Yeah? Well I think that if I'm old enough to feel this strongly about you, then I'm old enough to have sex." The childish pout was still firmly fixed to his face, an ironic exaggeration for his whined argument.

"Well then, maybe _I'm_ the immature one." Clay unwound his arm from Jack's shoulder and stood up. "'Cause I've had sex plenty of times, but I've never been in love." He felt angry that he'd never been in love, did Jack really love him? Or was it just a childish crush? Either way, he was jealous; he'd never felt that way.

Jack could feel the angst coming from the cowboy. How could he have never been in love! He stood up and brushed the grass from his jeans.

"You're not immature." He said, "You walked me home last night because you were worried about me getting attacked if I walked home on my own at that time of night." Jack nervously picked at his fingernails. "You said I was pretty, you said you didn't want to think what might happen to a 'pretty boy' like me in that neighbourhood." Jack remembered the way his heart had jumped at the word 'pretty'. Clay had thought he was pretty.

"Hey, just 'cos I didn't want you to get raped by some drunken bastard, doesn't mean I wanted to do it to you myself!" Clay vaguely remembered being concerned for the boy in a totally non-sexual way. He really had simply intended to walk Jack home and make sure he was alright. So what had changed it?

Jack was cringing; he'd seen that night as beautiful, they'd 'made love', Clay still saw it as a crime, something illegal to be utterly ashamed of.

"I kissed you, I thought you'd probably push me away, but I figured it would be alright 'cos you were drunk and wouldn't remember the next day." Jack was mumbling, staring at his shoes. "When you kissed me back I really hoped it was 'cos you liked me, I suppose I knew you were drunk, but…"

Jack looked up at Clay, but the cowboy refused to meet his eyes.

Conflicting emotions within the young redhead warred for superiority, but he knew what he had to do.

Gathering all his courage, Jack stood on his tip-toes and pressed his lips against Clay's. For a moment there was no reaction and Jack braced himself for a beating, but eventually he felt Clay kiss back, then Clay's hands were on the back of Jack's head holding him there.

A few minutes later they broke apart, both gasping for breath.

Clay felt dizzy and breathless; he'd certainly never had that reaction on kissing any of his girl friends back in Texas. He wanted to do it again, almost desperately; so he did. This time he pulled Jack towards him by his slender waist and waited a moment with their lips just millimetres apart, sharing the same breath. Both boys felt as though they should say something, but no words came, and the gap was swallowed.

Clay couldn't believe he was kissing a fifteen year old boy, but more than that, he couldn't believe how amazing it was. He felt no shame towards his enormous bulging erection pressing against Jack's hip.

"You know we shouldn't be doing this." Clay whispered into Jack's mouth.

"Says who?" Jack whispered back.

Then they both collapsed to the ground, still kissing.

Clay suddenly pulled away, rubbing his eyes almost violently, he turned his face away from Jack.

"What's wrong?" Jack whined, kneeling up behind Clay and placing a tender hand on the cowboy's shoulder.

Clay sniffed and uncovered his eyes, he wore an angry scowl.

"This isn't right, I work out, I watch football, I eat steak, I can't be…" He dug his fingers into his temples, "My Daddy's gonna kill me."

He recalled each of his previous conquests, counting them off on his fingers; he'd avoided looking at them. The sex had always been just a display of his masculinity, a boost for his reputation. He had never realised that kissing could be so tender and heartfelt. He'd been kissing the wrong people.

"When my Dad found out, he beat the crap outta me." Jack looked innocently understanding, but the anger that rose in Clay's stomach at hearing that Jack's father had been violent with the boy almost drove Clay to tears. "He found pictures I'd downloaded off the net." Jack looked a little guilty at this.

"How long have you known?" Clay asked, he shifted his position so that he could pull Jack up close next to him.

"Always. When I was a kid at school I wanted to play kiss-chase with the boys." He grinned. Clay had a cute mental image of Jack chasing other boys around the playground, lips pursed for kisses. "I had the hots for you since we met, I can't believe you never noticed."

"I'm sorry." Clay squeezed Jack's shoulder.

"Well, it's probably a good thing that you didn't notice-"

"No," Clay interrupted, "I'm sorry that last night happened the way it did."

Jack looked confused, it was a very common expression for him, his head cocked, one eyebrow raised and his mouth slightly open, but it was endearing.

"I took advantage of your feelings for me." Clay apologised, dipping his head so he could inhale Jack's scent.

"But I'm glad you did." That gut-wrenching innocence shining in wide red eyes, Clay still felt like a monster.

"I guess I'm kinda glad I did as well, I don't know how else I could have realised…" He left the sentence unfinished and turned Jack's face up towards his own, capturing his lips in a warm soft kiss.

"I love you." Jack whispered, his voice having taken on an air of maturity.

Clay tightened his hold on the boy, feeling his eyes get a little wet.

"Don't leave me?" Jack asked, his voice begged, but had lost the childish whining quality.

Clay sighed and looked down at Jack's head tucked tight into Clay's chest. He didn't think he'd be able to leave him if he wanted to.

"I won't leave you." Clay replied, "Ever."

And he didn't.

p 

End

p 

A/N: Sorry, I couldn't think of a good way to end it, I know it's kinda messed up and there's probably loads of unresolved issues, but that's as far as I could get this one to go. If anyone is really disappointed and can think of a better ending, review with suggestions and I may edit and repost.

Fans of 'Bring Me to Life' will be relieved to hear that the final chapter is nearly complete, despite a severe infection in my imagination resulting in me having to have my muse amputated.


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